Another day, another political education story

A few hours ago, a friend sent me this story about someone running for governor of Oregon to make a point about literacy rates of Oregon 4th graders (spoiler: it's bad). As the story goes, the "Pencil" (complete with mascot suit) is running against the largely uncontested Democratic incumbent, Tina Kotek. And given the current state of national affairs and Oregon's political population distribution, it's highly unlikely Governor Kotek will lose her seat in the general.

First thought: That is the most Portland story I've ever seen about Portland and I'm FROM there.

Second thought: I've also seen the stories about Ms. Kotek's beef with the teacher's union. I don't have all the facts on that one so I'll leave that out of this blog, but it does seem to revolve around...surprise! Money.

As it turns out, I happen to know quite a bit about Oregon's history of school funding. But I read the story about The Pencil and their particular argument angle seems to be that "if Mississippi can raise literacy rates with no extra money, why can't Oregon?" The implication being, of course, that it must have something to do with the wrong curricular approach (Whole language! Phonics!)  or teacher laziness or funds being allocated incorrectly or something else singular and overly simplistic.  

I have a hypothesis for a possible contributing factor--not whole explanation--that almost never gets discussed. And happily, it's something Governor Kotek could probably look into and implement without spending more precious dollars on a magical corporate curriculum designed by profiteers who've never been in a classroom.

    IMPORTANT HISTORY SIDENOTE: The difference between Oregon and Mississippi isn't racism, in case you were wondering. Oregon was founded as a white supremacist "sundown state"--it's how they got their statehood (1859) approved by the soon-to-be Confederate states. "We won't let black folks move here." Derrick Bell was called by black parents to testify in Portland in the 1980s that they wanted segregated schools again because of how horribly their children were being treated in the "integrated" schools. So...

Anyway, the hypothesis is not funding, not in the general sense. It's the consistency of funding. The boom and bust and wild swings in years where things are fine versus years where hundreds of people are laid off. See, in 1992, in response to MASSIVE property tax restrictions, Oregon had to change their school funding system. They went to a strict per-student formula that is, I believe, mostly the same today (not 100% sure about that, my dissertation analysis was 1990–2017). And those property tax restrictions plus the formula caused huge budgetary problems, and left Oregon districts vulnerable to every little swing in school-age population. Then you add unfunded mandates at the state and federal level, recessions...there has never been a whole decade since 1990 where Oregon didn't have some financial crisis that caused cuts to the education budget.

Here's where it gets interesting. When schools lay off teachers during a budget crisis, there's sometimes strategy to it, but if there's a collective bargaining agreement (CBA), there are often rules about seniority and subject areas that have to be followed.

(YES LONGVIEW I'M STILL MAD ABOUT BEING CUT A WEEK AFTER COMING BACK FROM MATERNITY LEAVE IN 2009 WHEN THE FIRST YEAR ENGLISH TEACHER AND THE TERRIBLE 70 YEAR OLD ORCHESTRA TEACHER GOT TO STAY). 

One of the common rules in a CBA is that teachers with seniority get to keep their jobs when there are cuts. But it doesn't guarantee you will get to keep the same teaching assignment that you had before. Maybe you move schools, maybe teach a course you've never taught because they had to cut back sections of a class, maybe teach a grade level you've never had experience with. All the CBA guarantees is that you continue being employed.

Do you see where I'm going with this? 

We know for a fact that consistency of instruction and teacher expertise matter in student learning. What if every year or every three years, a school district is scrambling to find teachers? Burnout, attrition, unfilled positions, or the layoff shuffle I just described above. You think those kids are getting consistent instruction?? Are the teachers always experienced in THAT age level with THAT subject matter? Which is not to say that the teachers aren't doing their very best, but adjustment takes time. But do they get to be in that space long enough to adjust and really get GOOD at the new thing before being shuffled around again? Do we have those numbers? Do we know how many teachers have been moved around like that? Do we have data that looks at which districts have done the layoff shuffle the most? Who has the most unfilled positions or occurrence of long-term substitutes/emergency licenses? Can we analyze those things to the reading scores as a possible contributing factor? 

Or is it just easier, politically, to slap a curricular band-aid on it and tell the schools, again, to just make do with less? Knowing that Oregon isn't going to elect an (R) anytime soon? *cough cough*

I can't speak to Mississippi's school funding formula, or how protected the funding source might be from boom and bust cycles. I know it's just at the bottom of the barrel in strict (very low) numbers for overall funding and teacher pay. But it is overly simplistic to say that the only factor in their success is their curriculum and that teachers are somehow, on the whole, more dedicated there than in Oregon. 

Teacher working conditions are student learning conditions. And it ain't always about the pay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Open Letter to Leaders of Gresham-Barlow School District

  

It’s happened again.

A school district is facing budget pressures and decides tocut what they have deemed “unnecessary” as a form of triage and survival.

And as usual, elementary music is on the chopping block. Even though music is a protected core subject in federal law.

I’m sure you’ll tell me in response that music is important of course, but that you have to prioritize reading and math for state and federal accountability measures. When I was a student teacher 25 years ago, I attended a professional development where the superintendent said to his entire district “don’t let your students turn into THIS.” And he held up an Excel spreadsheet printout.

You all have lost the plot in your quest for data reporting. And have learned nothing from 1990 to now about planning for Oregon's janky school funding formulas.

And rather than fight for more funding from the state, you’re choosing to give the humans in your care a sub-standard educational experience. 

Nevermind that there is a wealth of research that says language acquisition is helped by music—training the ears to hear beat, rhythm, cadence, pitch, dynamics, tone of voice. Nevermind that we have a wealth of research that says music can help with attention span, pattern recognition, social emotional health, mood regulation, fine motor skills and a host of other things that are not taught in any other subject in such an integrated, holistic way.

Seems like language acquisition reinforcement would be a priority in a district that serves so many immigrant and refugee children whose first language is not English—especially for younger ages where it’s most effective. Or to help support the supposed priorities of reading and math. But I guess not.

Which brings me to the question of why elementary music? Why not the high schools which surely cost more? The list below doesn't specify that music will be protected at the high school, but I suspect that even the most musically ignorant school board member or administrator recognizes the public relations embarrassment of not having the band at football games and parades or having no choir to sing the national anthem. But that same ignorance refuses to pay attention to how music is, and always has been, the example of scaffolding, spiral curriculum, and vertical alignment you're always trying to get all the other subjects to do. 

Guess what? You’re going to lose the high school classes anyway. It’ll still be the PR nightmare you’re trying to avoid, but it will happen in 6-8 years rather than right now.

Cutting music won’t save your district. It’ll just shortchange a whole generation of students unlucky enough to live within your boundaries. And in true American tradition, it’ll be the most vulnerable, impoverished, and marginalized that suffer most.

 

Saying Goodbye

As an undergrad music ed student, you have to complete "field experience" before student teaching. Part time, observations, etc., but getting into the schools. My field experience mentor was Megan. Megan is a tell-it-like-it-is Jersey girl who did her first few years teaching in South Central L.A. in the 80s, is like 5'4" and plays upright bass. She's a badass orchestra and mariachi teacher and I loved working with her. 

During that field experience, she said to me "you know who would be PERFECT for you to student teach with is my friend Rich, he's over at Nathan Hale, and he teaches both band AND choir so that would be a great place for you." Even though Rich had promised his students he wouldn't take any more student teachers, the university person in charge of my placements was HIS high school band director. So Rich interviewed me, then let the kids vote on it.

In other words, a lot of things had to go exactly right for me to be in this student teaching placement.

If you've known me for any length of time, you have definitely heard me talk about this guy. Rich was full of one-liners and stories, wicked funny zingers, and he had high musical, personal, and ethical standards. There are many things he taught me in that placement that I still use and now teach my own undergraduate students. My second year at Mason, I even had him speak to my undergrad foundations class via Zoom. 

Rich is also the person who introduced me to my husband. Tyson student taught the school year before me, and the students had made a meme out of him and hung it up in the classroom. "Hey Rich, is that you?" I asked during my interview. "Aw hell no," he said. "That was my LAST student teacher." [belly laugh]. Then one Friday afternoon, Megan and Tyson both showed up to the Fiddler's Inn (a local watering hole where Rich and I were reviewing the week over a pitcher of beer) to hang out and eat nachos. Rich said "hey! You guys should start a 'student teaching with Rich' support group!" 

I don't remember anything else about the conversation at the Fiddlers Inn that day except that I talked to Tyson for almost two hours straight. The rest of that is history, as we're currently in year 22 of marriage.

Rich and his wife Kris gave me a place to live in that transition summer after I graduated. My roommates moved out in June and I couldn't afford the rent alone, so R&K offered to let me rent a room in their house until I saved enough from my first teaching job to get another apartment. The day I moved in, they waited for me hidden behind the giant hedge in their front yard and when I opened the gate they jump scared me. I learned a lot about finding joy in everyday things by living at their house. A really good cup of coffee before going to work. Walking the dogs. But most of all... Kris' overstuffed armchair by the piano. It was the best. nap. chair. ever.

There was also a resident ghost in that house, but that's a story for another time.

Over the years, I would occasionally call Rich just to catch up and chat. The year I taught at Everett High School, I called him up and without even saying hello said "Rich. Who the hell let me teach HIGH SCHOOL when I was TWENTY TWO?!" He did his full belly laugh and said "it's nice to hear your voice. Sometimes you hire whoever you have!" 

When we were in grad school in Chicago, he made a stop to see us while driving from Ontario to a summer theater festival Kris was performing in somewhere nearby. 

After we had kids, I figured out through Facebook that our oldest child Sam was born on Rich's birthday. So it gave me a really easy way to remember to call him every year. Sometimes it was just a text happy birthday/thanks sometimes followed by a phone call.

This last November, I texted Happy Birthday! and he started texting back a lot. Like more than we normally do. Then after several messages back and forth, he informed me that he had retired from education and was currently fighting cancer. He seemed optimistic about how chemo was going, and there was another treatment after that that seemed promising. I said something about rocking a bandana (as he sometimes did anyway to keep his super curly hair under control) and he sent me a selfie...already wearing one. Typical. A couple months later we were texting about the Seahawks going to the Super Bowl. True to his character, if he knew then things were going south, he didn't let on. The next text I got was from Kris that he had passed. 61 years old. Too young. 

I haven't really been able to process that he's gone. Tonight at 7 pm is his memorial service, and I will be teaching secondary instrumental methods--a class I am qualified to teach partially due to his guidance. I think he'd be ok with that.